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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589451">One More, Please</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironstarker/pseuds/ironstarker'>ironstarker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:20:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironstarker/pseuds/ironstarker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's woken up from a nap by strange sensations: pressure on his brow, a hint of his mentor's cologne. Suspicious, he devises a plan to test his hypothesis: if he naps, Mr. Stark will give him a kiss on the forehead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>203</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One More, Please</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time it happened, Peter thought he was dreaming.</p><p>There was a light pressure against his forehead, the faint scent of cologne, and then it was gone. The boy’s eyes cracked open, and he was able to make out the shape of a man’s back walking away. But Peter had been in the throes of his sleep, having such a good dream about forcing Mr. Stark to wear Mickey ears at Disney World, that he didn’t want to wake. He’d imagined it. Convinced and a little too tired to worry about it, his eyes shut and he was back asleep in a matter of seconds.The next time it happened, Peter decided it was time to formulate a plan.</p><p>He was a little more conscious this time. Enough so that he was able to make out Mr. Stark’s shoulders when he walked away. He blinked, staring after the man who continued on, walking back to his own room. Peter brought his hand up to his forehead. The skin there was as warm as the rest of him, but it felt hotter with the knowledge of what had happened. Mr. Stark had kissed his forehead. He was sure of it. So that first time — it hadn’t been a dream? </p><p>Instead of falling back to sleep, Peter stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, clutching at the blanket that he tended to curl up beneath on Mr. Stark’s incredibly soft (and expensive) couch. His fingers wove against the heavy, knit fabric of the blanket. At one point, FRIDAY asked him if he’d like for her to fetch Mr. Stark for him, because she said he was whispering his name under his breath. Oh, god. Peter’s cheeks flushed hot and he stammered, “N-no, thank you.” After that, she left him alone.</p><p>Okay, so maybe instead of devising a plan, he spent the next week giddy about it. He all but skipped his way through the compound, which was where he was spending most of his summer. After training in the afternoon, Peter had developed a habit of fixing himself a little snack and dozing on the couch before dinner. He liked to think that his high metabolism meant his body required a little more rest, but really he’d unintentionally conditioned himself.</p><p>And now, he took the naps because he wanted to see what Mr. Stark would do.</p><p>One time, he fell asleep without the blanket. When he woke up, it was draped over him, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Peter hadn’t thought to ask FRIDAY about it, assuming that one of the Avengers had dropped by and tossed it over him. But then he’d started having weird dreams about water dripping on his forehead, and then he’d woken up that time Mr. Stark had done it.</p><p>How many times had the man done it before Peter realized?</p><p>Mr. Stark kissed his forehead when he slept.</p><p>The sound that left Peter was an undignified squeal as he lay alone in his room and thought about it. His fingers tapped away at the screen on his phone, asking the internet for advice on how to proceed. Peter kept it anonymous and vague enough that it couldn’t be traced back to him. “ — how…do I ask my — roommate? Sugar daddy? — to…please kiss my forehead again. Great, Peter, way to sound like a total loser.” The boy mumbled to himself, pausing to delete words or entire sentences here and there, and then the entire post. In the end, he gave up with a frustrated groan, tossing his phone aside and rolling onto his back. He shoved the heels of his palms against his eyes and rubbed them.</p><p>The best way to test a hypothesis was, well, to test it, right?</p><p>Peter had a hypothesis. His hypothesis was that if he fell asleep on the couch, Mr. Stark would give him a kiss. On the forehead. Strictly platonic. Peter worried his bottom lip between his teeth and lowered his hands from his face so they could settle against the fabric of his Star Wars shirt. Was it platonic? The boy’s heart beat a little faster. Even if he didn’t want to give himself the hope that it wasn’t, Peter couldn’t help himself. Besides, there was only one way to find out.</p><p>The next day, almost two weeks after he’d first noticed what Mr. Stark was doing, Peter laid his trap. He settled against the couch, trying (hopelessly failing) to stifle his own giddy excitement so he could feign sleep. He had the blanket stretched across his body, and one of the pillows that Aunt May would’ve said were, “For decor only, so don’t you dare sleep on it, mister!” was bunched up beneath his head. Peter lay on his back for a minute, and then he got restless and turned onto his side, facing the coffee table and the television. He stared at his reflection in the dark screen. What if Mr. Stark didn’t show up?</p><p>But he did.</p><p>It took a little while, and a lot more tossing and frustrated grunts and sighs from Peter, but eventually his acute senses picked up on the sound of footsteps walking towards the common area. His heart leapt into his throat, and it was all he could do to settle against the couch (he had rolled back over onto his back, the blanket askew, half of it on the floor, the rest pooled haphazardly over his legs) and wait. He didn’t have to wait very long. He felt the blanket shifting first, dragging against his skin as Mr. Stark fixed it for him.</p><p>Peter kept still, continuing with the slow breathing that he’d practiced.</p><p>There was a shuffling sound from Mr. Stark’s shoes, and then he felt the warm press of lips against his forehead. This time, the kiss was accompanied by a casual brush of Mr. Stark’s hand against his hair, sweeping a stray curl off his forehead. </p><p>Was it abuse of his spider-powers if he used his sixth sense (no, not the Peter tingle, he would never call it the Peter tingle) to tell when Mr. Stark turned away? Maybe. But Peter relied on it anyway, and the second that Mr. Stark made to leave his hand came up, looping through Mr. Stark’s. Peter’s eyes cracked open, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt the man freeze. He saw the moment that his mentor’s spine went rigid.</p><p>He didn’t take his hand away, though, and Peter thought that was a win.</p><p>“One more? Please, Mr. Stark,” he said, the words a breathless whisper. Peter was afraid if he spoke them too loud, he’d spook the man and he’d never get to feel the gentle pressure of Mr. Stark’s lips on his forehead again.</p><p>Mr. Stark’s hand tightened in his grip, and he turned to look down at Peter. “One more,” he murmured, and turned back around.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was inspired by a post on r/relationship_advice. It’s a cute little drabble that I haven’t been able to get out of my head for over a week. Literally just tooth-rotting fluff. Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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